


Sweet Dreams

by marchefunebre



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Frottage, Incest, M/M, Somnophilia, dubcon i guess . maybe . technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27148993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchefunebre/pseuds/marchefunebre
Summary: If Thanatos doesn't want to make time for Hypnos, that's just fine; he'll take matters into his own hands.
Relationships: Hypnos/Thanatos (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 109





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for the [Hades kinkmeme.](https://hadeskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/741.html)  
> Anonymous: "Hypnos gets tired of Thanatos never paying attention to him and puts Than to sleep so they can spend some quality time together."  
> 

It isn’t hard to put him to rest. Thanatos never does take Hypnos very seriously, and he acts as though he’s immune to all his tricks; he forgets that even Hades fell underneath his spell, once. 

The embodiment of Sleep itself smiles with self-satisfaction at his brother Death, who even in repose looks terribly dour. Hardly surprising— it’d be too good of him to spare a little glimpse of tranquility, of course. For that matter, Thanatos wouldn’t spare Hypnos even a fleeting moment, no matter how many times he asked; like if his duty were delayed for a little dalliance, he’d wash right up in the Pool of Styx. It’s fine, all fine! Hypnos can make that time himself.

The two of them are safely concealed within Hypnos’ chambers, strewn with down-feather pillows atop an excessively large, lavish mattress – his favorite place to be, even if it got woefully little use amidst his own obligations to the House. The quilts are all bunched up in a mess, on the floor, in the corners; Thanatos always likens it to the nest of some little vermin, chiding Hypnos for his untidiness. He’s not grousing so much now.

Hypnos is straddled across Thanatos, who lies limp and pliable underneath him. Vulnerable, even. With his mind alight over the possibilities at his disposal, he can’t help but giggle, even if most of them are quite firmly in the realm of fanciful and far-off fantasy. Although their bond goes beyond that which is appropriate of brothers, they’ve yet to manifest those desires on account of Thanatos’ business as Death. He can go and pluck out every little mortal out of their homes and into the House with time to spare for some foray through the Underworld, but _oh!_ When Hypnos offers him a moment of pleasure, it’s too much to ask. It’s enough to make a body jealous, but he’ll get what he wants whether Thanatos is going to give it or not. 

Even if he’s not without ambition, it’s hard to work with a limp body; Hypnos isn’t exactly as strong as his twin, and he’s heavier than he looks. For the moment, he does little more than shift on top of him, hands roaming with an anticipation he doesn’t often feel. His eyes do similar work, drinking up the sight before him. Thanatos’ body is the opposite to his in almost every way: he’s toned where Hypnos is soft, sharp where he’s delicate, dark where he’s light. There’s certainly something to appreciate about the contrast, despite the fact that sometimes Hypnos finds himself wishing for a little similarity. Even their faces aren’t alike: Thanatos always has such a severe look, hard angles and hints of a scowl, while he was made with subtle curves and an easy grin. 

His hand reaches out to touch Thanatos’ cheek, softer than it appears, before tracing along his jawline. In some expression of forbidden affection, Hypnos presses a soft kiss to his lips— as though he could even appreciate it in his somnolence. It doesn’t matter; it’s all for himself. 

Eager to begin, he removes his thick quilted cloak, discarding it off to the side as he unceremoniously hikes up the long robe that he wears. Hypnos makes no pretense of wearing any undergarments under the thing, allowing himself to get right to stroking his dick as he places another kiss onto his twin’s mouth. 

With his free hand, he gently takes hold of Thanatos’ jaw to coax his mouth open, turning his affections wet and sloppy; it’s far from glamorous, but the ecstasy of having his most dear brother all to himself is almost too much to bear. He’s so cold, it’s unfair; always needling Hypnos, pushing him away. Like this, he accepts Hypnos readily. It’s not long before he’s hard, huffing into Thanatos’ neck when he’s forced to part from his mouth for breath. Hypnos’ eyes shut and his eyelashes flutter from the feeling of it all, and he thinks with a note of embarrassment how _easy_ he must be if he could only get Thanatos to put his hands on him. 

He can’t delay it anymore; he may not be able to fulfill one of those sweet dreams the Oneiroi bless him with on the daily, but he would be leaving with at least some of his desires satisfied.

He readjusts himself to sit lower at Thanatos’ waist, hands keeping his robe out of the way, and sets to grind against him. It’s awkward, at first – a brushing of the hips that doesn’t accomplish much beyond mussing up his clothes. Effort without any gratification. It’s only when he gets back into position laying into Thanatos, palms pressed to his brother’s chest and cheek flush to his collarbone, that he finds himself angled _just so_ that he slides right against his brother’s concealed cock. The sensation is enough for Hypnos to let out a sigh of pleasure, his erection stiffening in response to the friction. It might have been prudent to undress before getting into the thick of things, he thinks, but it isn’t as though he doesn’t have time to enjoy himself; Thanatos rests like the dead he reaps, after all. 

Hypnos quickly falls into a slothful rhythm of humping and grinding against his ever-distant twin, allowing himself to shut his eyes and imagine as though it isn’t a solo act. Like Thanatos is holding onto him tight enough to bruise his pale-grey skin, bumping up in kind to his every move, saying Hypnos’ name; it’s blissful, if terribly, _terribly_ unrealistic. As it is, his grim brother lies below him still as a corpse, albeit huffing a little. He’s getting warmer, almost hot.

With a prideful smile, Hypnos notices that Thanatos seems to have developed a bulge in those pitch-black garments he favors, and it only serves to enhance the feeling of that sweet friction. He drowns soft _ooh_ s and _ahh_ s into Thanatos’ chest as he finds himself growing restless with arousal, wanting more. 

This kind of feeling is always foreign to Hypnos, the way his nerves set alight and his hips are called to hurry. His body cries out in revolt as he forces himself to still, pushing himself back so he can address the wretched confines of Thanatos’ clothes. It’s sweeter if he can feel his skin, if he can drag his palm along the length of him like he so often imagines. If he won’t let Hypnos grant him pleasure while he’s awake, then he’ll just have to take it while he sleeps. 

The tug and pull against those stubborn tight black pants lasts only a moment, with Hypnos willing to expend only _just_ enough effort to get his brother’s stiff dick free. It’s difficult not to admire it, and most especially the fact that it’s _Hypnos_ who has made him this hard. To know that if foolish, frigid Thanatos would just spare some fleeting moment for him, Hypnos really could make him feel good. At the very least, he thinks, it might wipe that gloomy expression off his face for a while. Still, he’ll take what he can get.

The free-flowing outer fabric that the both of them make a habit of wearing is all pushed aside and, repositioning himself, Hypnos takes their cocks together in his hand. Thanatos’ dick is like fire flush against him, enough to make a shudder run up his body in itself. 

Slowly, he pulls his hips back to relish in the friction that results, unaware of the high little moan that escapes his lips. In the thrust forward, he adds a light tug that serves to make his back arch and his toes curl. There are faint signs of movement from his brother, twitches and sighs, suggestions of pleasure that make Hypnos’ heart run with excitement.

It’s a little too easy for him to get lost in the sensation of his brother up against him; he soon finds himself fucking into his hand as their dicks rub together, gasping and whining in the hot grind as their combined precum starts slicking up his palm. His free hand moves to join the other, sometimes straying to stroke the head of Thanatos’ cock. 

In his haze he’s almost desperate to make him finish, even if his reaction will end up being anything but appreciation. Hypnos can hear him, delighting in the quivering breaths of his twin. There’s a triplet of _one, two, three_ final thrusts-and-tugs when Thanatos’ face contorts and his hands clutch at the sheets of the bed; Hypnos for one fleeting second doubts his own spell, but then all the tension in Thanatos’ body dissolves with a strained sigh. Subdued and almost muted, like his body doesn’t want to hand it over, steely Death cums in the hand of his twin Sleep. It splatters against his bright red robe, his medallion and the sash beneath it, every stain a mark of pride.

He doesn’t have a moment to bask in his accomplishment, however; the feeling of his brother’s hot load dripping down his hand is far too much for him to bear. Hypnos reaches his own electrifying end, the energy of it antithetical to his very being. A loud, keening cry of _“Thanatos!”_ is the only actual word that ever escapes his mouth in all that time, and it’s only after he comes down from his blissful high that he realizes he’s finished all over his brother’s up-‘til-now pristine clothes. Not that that could bother him now; he’s far above and away any consequences, completely and utterly pleased with himself.

Hypnos lets out a final languid, contented sigh as he stretches out on his brother from exertion. The two of them are a mess, sweaty and stained with one another’s cum. There’s sure to be a reckoning whenever Thanatos wakes up – but Hypnos doesn’t care at all, and falls into a hard-won rest with his face buried in the crook of his neck. If Hades should be wroth with Thanatos for his lapse in duty… well, perhaps next time he’ll set aside a moment for his cheerful twin.

**Author's Note:**

> [epilogue](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/286058149461622785/769110074416955392/image0.png)


End file.
